


You've Got a Little Something (Right There)

by Mysenia



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills 2015 [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/pseuds/Mysenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: Do you have the time to write something really cute like a flour fight in the midst of baking or the like for stetopher?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got a Little Something (Right There)

In a relationship revolving around three people, there are bound to be certain _peculiarities_ when it comes to certain things. Baking, for example, is never done the same way between Chris, Peter, and Stiles.

Chris is the regimented type, following the directions just so. If a recipe says a cup, that’s what goes into the mix - no more, no less. Stiles always rolls his eyes as he watches Chris take a knife and carefully level off the measuring cup. Nothing needs to be that exact, Stiles knows from experience.

Stiles, well he likes to throw in a pinch of this and a dash of that. He’ll dip his finger into the batter and from that little taste he just knows exactly what is missing. It bothers Chris no end that he does it, so Stiles makes sure that whenever Chris is looking he exaggerates his movements with a big smirk on his face. He laughs as Chris flips him the finger.

Now Peter, he’s a bit of a mixture between Chris’ style and Stiles’. Peter says it depends on the recipe but Stiles knows it just depends on who is in the room. If it’s Chris, Peter bakes exactly like Stiles; if it’s Stiles, Peter bakes exactly like Chris. They both know he does it too.

They don’t take turns baking per se, but there is an unwritten schedule to when a one of them is baking over the others. Sunday mornings it’s Peter in the kitchen making muffins. Chris confided in Stiles that he thinks it’s something Peter’s grandma used to do, but they’ve never asked and Peter’s never said anything. 

Wednesday evenings it’s Stiles in the kitchen making brownies or cookies or experimenting with pastries. Stiles’ philosophy is that everyone needs a little pick me up at the end of the day on hump day and, besides sex, baked goods are the next best thing. 

Friday nights Chris can be found in the kitchen, usually making the most complex but delicious baked goods ever. Stiles doesn’t always understand why Chris does it because he can be heard agonizing over it from the living room. Grunts and groans a marker of his frustration over something not working out the way he expects it to. 

Those noises always pull his attention, even when he knows that going to investigate will only end with Chris glaring at him - Stiles has never been good at keeping his mouth shut when he watches Chris bake like it’s an exact science. 

It’s Friday, so Stiles knows to expect Chris in the kitchen, even knows to expect the usual array of noises coming from the kitchen. What Stiles is not expecting is the complete silence that greets him as he walks in the door. It’s eerie in a way their house never is. 

He tip toed his way to the kitchen, knowing that was where Chris would be found but weary of what exactly was going to greet him. When he peaked his head around the wall he was presented with the image of Chris, flour covering the upper half of his body, standing frozen behind the island.

Chris’ face was priceless; mouth parted in shock, eyes widened in surprise, hands held slightly raised as if the gesture alone could have stopped what occurred. Stiles couldn’t help it, he snorted.

Chris’ eyes whipped up to pin him with a look that could freeze. Stiles raised a hand to stifle the laughter but the damage was done. Chris stalked around the counter, hand swiping something but Stiles was too busy wheezing to notice. 

He was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face, the image of Chris dismayed as if the baking God’s had betrayed him forever burned in his mind. Stiles was bent over double when Chris feet came into view but he raised a hand to stop Chris’ forward movement, the acknowledged sign for wait. 

“This amuses you does it?” Chris asked, his voice sounding like he himself was trying to hold back laughter. 

It was as Stiles was straightening his body that he noticed Chris’ right hand clenched around something, his left hand lax at his side. He shot his eyes up as subtly as he could. _Oh no_. 

Stiles took off back down the hall, aiming for the stairs, Chris hot on his heels. The front door opened just before Stiles was passing it and he grabbed the unsuspecting werewolf and threw him in Chris’ direction. Peter stumbled into the handful of flour Chris had aimed at Stiles. 

“What the _hell_?” Peter exclaimed as Stiles cackled. 

Stiles rounded the banister, almost making the first step before he was grabbed around the waist. “No no no! He’s going to get _me_.” Stiles laughed. 

“Well you deserve it after sacrificing me!” Peter growled in his ear. 

Stiles continued to laugh, unable to stop himself. “You-” Stiles hiccuped. “He was-” He gasped. “There was flour all over him!” Stiles finally managed to get out. “You should have seen his face!”

Peter huffed in his ear. “Chris, there appears to be something wrong with this picture.”

Stiles glanced over at Chris’ face as Chris responded to Peter. “Indeed.” 

“No!” Stiles wailed in amusement as Chris grabbed up his legs and Peter and Chris carried him back towards the kitchen. 

Stiles struggled but it was no use when put up against the combined strength of a werewolf and a hunter. The wandering tickling hands didn’t help. 

“You guys are evil!” Stiles squealed.

They got Stiles to the kitchen and over to the island all the while Stiles gasped in laughter. Chris never messed up when baking, nothing as messy as getting flour all over the place.

Before he knew it Stiles was covered in flour, his two lovers laughing at his squawk. They set him down and he swept the flour covering the island at the two. 

After that it was fair game. Chris grabbed up a bowl a sugar and flung it at Peter. Stiles grabbed up two eggs and squished one onto Peter’s head and threw the other one at Chris, nailing his target in the side. Peter roared and grabbed up handfuls of whatever was left in the bowl to throw at Stiles and Chris. 

It was chaos and an absolute mess but by the time they were done not a one of them had a dry eye, laughing so hard they ended up crying. 

“That was _fucking awesome_!” Stiles enthused.

Peter wrapped an arm around Stiles, the other around Chris, and pulled them all down until they were cuddle together on the floor. “Yes, yes it was.”

Chris smiled at the two of them and flopped himself down across their legs. “Yeah.” 

The kitchen was a mess, it was going to be a nightmare to clean, but they didn’t care. That was the most fun they had had in the kitchen in quite some time, sexy times aside.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~ M


End file.
